On a rainy day in September, the last of the summer colours bleach away. It has been quite a difficult summer and after many hospital admissions I am more than a trifle worn out. But this past week, one bright burst of energy appeared in the form of my younger brother. He spent the week infusing us with his usual brand of good humoured, careless love in between bouts of giving me golf lessons. He didn't entirely despise my first attempts so I am hopeful I shan't embarrass myself in front of The Nephew who no doubt, at 18 months, is already perfecting the art of swing.
The Brother accompanied me to hospital a few days ago, ducking out only when the Needle Lady came by, all smiles and jokes. (The Needle Lady that is, not The Brother... she really was the chirpiest phlebotomist I have ever met! Unnerving, but nice!). And then, with a hug and admonitions to visit him soon, in his part of the world, he was gone. Tomorrow I have eye surgery - unless the surgeon decides against it... and today I am as dull as the grey stone sky. Recently, I watched choirmaster Gareth Malone gather together a disparate group of surgeons and therapists to create a perfect harmony - I found the programme fascinating. The thought that someday, in an alternate universe perhaps, I could be sung to by NHS staff, cheers me no end! NHS trust hospitals work "as a series of little villages" with very little communication, if any, between consultants and kitchen porters, so to witness the coming together of the complex combination of individuals that make up my own hospital experience, was a thrill. The full appreciation of the unique talents of all members of staff is something I learned from my father who was loved by medics and technicians from all departments. Humour, gentleness and a song on the lips of my surgeon - is that too much to ask for?
"Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down... in the most delightful way!"
Now that's my idea of 'swing'!